t is one of the anomalies
of human infelicity that she felt a tinge of disappointment at his
ready acquiescence.

"I've always loved this lane," she murmured, after not too long a pause.
"Isn't it the soul of peace?"

"Peace? How can you?" he looked down at her. "See the struggle!
Honeysuckle, trumpet-vine, poison-ivy, wild-grape, alder--and everything
else which I can't name--crowding and tangling and choking out each
other's lives! You call it peace?"

They had reached a crest of a hill and, down in front of them half a
mile on, stood the chapel, so snugly placed that only its little cross
could be seen above the tree-tops, summoning the indolent country-side
to prayer. With her eyes resting on it, she answered:

"The approach to your devotions seems to have made you pessimistic."

"My devotions are here, at my side," he said in a low voice. "And my
pessimism is caused by the true glass of my nature being held honestly
before my eyes. It started cutting up this way today after you left us,
and ever since I've not been able to spare myself. I don't know how to
make you understand it--perhaps you don't want to understand it--but the
two sides of this lane seem so peculiarly expressive of my life that I
see no peace in them at all."

"The lane might not be so attractive without a medley of rioting
things," she answered dreamily. "Yet, it could be improved by cutting
out the poison-ivy!"

"If that were cut out of the lane I mean, there would be little left.
It seems to have taken possession of--of my lane!"

"Are there not gardeners," she smiled a wee bit tenderly up at him, "who
know how it could be done?"

"But I have no gardener." The wistfulness in his voice checked her
smile.

They were at the chapel now, and he drove beneath the grove of trees,
helped her down, and then unchecked and tied the horse near a few others
already there. She waited. Slowly they went up to the silent door, but
on its threshold he touched her arm.

"May I find a gardener?" He was looking down with a strong appeal in his
eyes.

"For your sake, do," she hurriedly whispered, and went in.

They were early, and the chapel seemed to be dozing in a cool gloom
which was softly set in motion as she glided, like a graceful shadow, up
the aisle. He followed with more sturdy strides. So very quiet and
vault-like was the place, that each worshipper there before them could
be heard turning to see who came; and when he finally stretched ba